Civilian Toll Mounts in Lebanon Conflict

The signal of Hezbollah's radio station, al-Nur, was jammed by Israel, which repeated its own message. "Know that the state of Israel will continue its campaign with force and determination with the goal of ending the terrorist work coming from Lebanese land," the voice said. The message ridiculed Hezbollah's leader, saying he was hiding in a cave. "Where is Hasan Nasrallah?" the voice taunted.

At Jabal Amel Hospital, director Ahmed Mroueh opened the ledger of the wounded.

"This is today," he said. "It begins at No. 267 and ends at 300. This is today, until now."

The physician pointed out the children: 8-year-old Diana Said, 4-year-old Hatem Naame, 7-year-old Mariam Hamadeh.

He shook his head. "This is the worst day we've seen."

A relief worker arrived in an ambulance carrying two corpses from an attack on Srifa, where bodies remain buried in rubble.

"Take them to the government hospital," Mroueh told him. "Our morgue is full."

The hospital director turned away. "Ten days," he said -- that was how long he thought the staff could cope with the pace.

"It has to stop," he said matter-of-factly. "It has to stop."

Upstairs was Diana Said, hurt in the attack on the minibus. A white bandage covered her left eye. She sat at the foot of the bed of her father, 34-year-old Said Finjan. He asked a doctor about the car's Syrian driver, Mohammed Abed Sheikh, who was killed.

"Where did they put him?" he blurted out.

Across the hall was his wife, 25-year-old Fawziya Finjan, her face swollen and her head bandaged.

"Thank the Lord," she said softly. "God saved my daughter. That's the most important thing."

Staff photographer Michael Robinson-Chavez contributed to this report.